


Boiling Over

by NamelesslyNightlock



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Anger, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Declarations Of Love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Feels, Feral Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Fluff, Fluffy Ending, Gallows Humor, Gun Violence, Happy Ending, Hurt Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, Hurt/Comfort, Immortality, Injury, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani and Nicky | Nicolò di Genova are in Love, Kissing, M/M, Mistakes, Nicky | Nicolo di Genova Gets a Hug, Nicky | Nicolò di Genova Needs a Hug, Pain, Post-Canon, Protective Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Romantic Fluff, Soft Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, Talking, Temporary Character Death, Worried Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, bad timing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:54:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26819131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NamelesslyNightlock/pseuds/NamelesslyNightlock
Summary: If there’s one thing Nicky hates more than watching Joe die, it’s watching him die in a way that could have been easily avoided—and then being forced to listen while the others make a joke about it.…or, one in which Nicky loses his temper.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 41
Kudos: 688





	Boiling Over

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rabentochter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rabentochter/gifts).



> Thank you to **Rabentochter** for offering me this idea while I was in need of a distraction ❤︎

Nicky hated watching Joe die.

It didn’t matter how often it happened, didn’t matter that Nicky had seen Joe wake up just as many times. It didn’t _matter,_ because Joe had still _died._

Nicky knew himself what it felt like to come back from the dead. They all did, they all knew it wasn’t pleasant. You could still feel every wound, the same as a mortal would, still feel the loss of oxygen, the fall into the void—

And being torn from the darkness was always so much worse than drowning in it. For Nicky, the only thing which made coming back pleasant was the feel of Joe’s hands on his skin, seeing the relief in Joe’s eyes. Otherwise, it was _awful._ More often than not, the wounds were still present, and feeling them stitch back together was often just as painful as when they were formed in the first place. See, when the wound of a mortal is healing, they might often say that it itches—for an immortal with a wound healing a thousand times faster, the pain of it is a thousand times worse.

And all of that… was even before one considered the fact that coming back was never a guarantee.

So, yes. Nicky hated watching Joe die with every fibre of his being, hated the fear of worrying that this could be Joe’s last death, that the world would never again see the warmth of his smile, or the brightness of his laugh. That _Nicky_ would never hold him again, feel his kiss, hear his poetic words of devotion.

Then, even when Joe _did_ awaken, when Nicky’s body was flooded with relief, Joe still needed to go through the ordeal of _healing._

And Nicky _hated_ it.

Usually, he would be able to hold on his emotions until he and Joe were alone, and then he would let go and hold on Joe instead. _Usually,_ he could continue the fight according to the plan, a single grounding touch from his love enough to reassure them both that they were still alive. Still together. 

But this time—it was not something that they couldn’t have avoided. It wasn’t a surprise, it wasn’t that they were outnumbered, it wasn’t that they had even made a _mistake._

No.

This was Andy being cocky. This was a machine gun mounted at the end of a hall, in complete and clear sight, with a shooter that could have been taken out with a single shot and a little _patience._

But Andy—no, she’d never been good at patience. Usually, her strategy of diving in head first worked well but—

Not this time.

Not when the wounds of the incident with Merrick were still fresh in their minds. Not when they weren’t yet used to being without Booker, and with Nile.

Not when Andy was mortal.

Had Nicky been thinking logically, he might have rationalised that they could hardly blame her for it. Thousands of years of immortality had no doubt formed some habits that would be near impossible to break. In the heat of battle, one does tend to rely on instinct, after all—

As Nicky was. As _Joe_ was.

The moment Andy had hefted her weapon and moved around the corner, Joe had thrown himself forward, shielding Andy with his body—and the machine gun had torn Joe’s flesh to ribbons.

Nicky had watched as Joe’s shoulders jerked with the impact of uncountable bullets, as he’d died before he even hit the ground. Nicky hadn’t been logical, he hadn’t been thinking at all as he pulled Joe back behind the cover of the wall, letting Nile do the same for Andy.

Yes, it wasn’t the first time Nicky’s hands had been slick with Joe’s blood. It wasn’t the first time that Joe had been cold and unmoving under his touch, his eyes staring empty instead of shining with laughter.

And yes, usually, _usually,_ Nicky would be able to pull himself together. 

But after Nile had taken out the shooter with a well-placed shot, after Joe had woken and groaned and _swore_ as the minced mess of his chest morphed back into a solid slab of meat, as his skin regrew and his hand squeezed Nicky’s almost tight enough to crack bone—

Andy had made a _joke._

“Quick reaction there, Joe,” she said. “Shame about your shirt, though. I liked that one.”

Nicky had, too. They hadn’t been wearing their usual vests—the mission had required them to be a little more lowkey, so Joe had been in a button-down. But Nicky didn’t think that the _shirt_ was what needed to be commented upon.

And it seemed he wasn’t the only one.

“You should be more careful,” Nile snapped. Then she nodded down to where Joe was still moaning, every sound he made tearing through Nicky’s heart. “That could have been you.”

Nicky couldn’t bring himself to say anything, didn’t even look up away from Joe. His whole body felt tense, his jaw clenched tight enough that he was giving himself a headache. Still, he forced himself to nod when Joe glanced in his direction, checking if he was all right—

_That could have been you._

Nicky knew that it would have been _worse_ if Andy were the one hit, of course it would have been. Andy wouldn’t have got back up.

But for Nile to say it in that way, as if it didn’t _matter_ that it was Joe—

Nile didn’t mean it like that, of course she didn’t. She was still new, she didn’t yet see things the way that she might in another couple of centuries. She no doubt still felt like she was invincible.

Nicky, though—he couldn’t think like that. He couldn’t bear to watch them making light of Joe’s pain.

So, the moment he made sure that Joe was ready to go, Nicky hefted his weapon and moved right to the front of the group.

No more chances. No more missteps.

They tore through the facility with a cold ferocity, leaving a trail of blood and destruction in their wake. Nicky’s sword was dripping crimson and his gun was hot in his hand, his muscles aching before they were even half way through—but no matter how tired he got, he made sure that Andy stayed in his sights, and he made sure that Joe stayed _behind_ him.

Joe allowed him to take the lead without challenge, recognising without words that it was what Nicky needed. Nicky was grateful for that, and even more grateful for the way that Joe hovered near his side while they finished everything up.

All in all, the mission was a success. They retrieved the information Copley had sent them in for, killed the perpetrators of the whole affair, set the place ablaze and got out without incident.

Joe was the only one who had died.

According to Andy, things had gone very—

“—smoothly. Well done, guys. Not bad for a first mission as a new team.”

 _Not bad._ Nicky’s fingers clenched into a tight ball, pressing down hard into his thigh.

Joe, the only one with him in the back of their getaway-car, placed a hand over his fist, attempting to smooth away the tension. But even that wasn’t enough to calm Nicky down.

“I think we should talk about what happened,” Nile said—and Nicky’s shoulders unconsciously straightened. “Andy, I said it before, and I know that I’m only new. But you _have_ to be careful. Maybe we should run some drills, so you can get more used to being cautious—”

“It’s fine, Nile,” Andy said. “It won’t happen again. And besides, everything turned out well, as we said. We got what we needed, everyone’s fine.”

Nicky’s nails were digging hard enough into the flesh of his palm that they had to be close to drawing blood.

“Well,” Joe commented, his fingers still rubbing over Nicky’s knuckles. “Everyone except my shirt.”

“It did look good on you,” Nile agreed.

“Don’t worry Joe, I’ll buy you a new one,” Andy said, the amusement in her tone lancing through the air and piercing Nicky’s control—

“You should not have thrown yourself into the line of fire,” Nicky hissed, the words pushed past gritted teeth with forced effort. “This isn’t about a shirt, Andy. If we must talk about this, then let us talk about it properly. _Please.”_

There was a moment of silence. Nile actually turned in the passenger seat to look back at Nicky in concern, but Nicky didn’t glance away from Andy.

“What else is there to talk about?” Andy asked—and although her eyes remained on the road, Nicky could hear the frown in her voice. “I said I’d work on it.”

“That’s not good enough,” Nicky snapped. “And it’s not something to _joke_ about. Joe _died._ Do you—do you all not realise—"

“Nicolò.”

Joe didn’t ask Nicky to calm down, and for that, Nicky was grateful. He lifted Nicky’s hand, coaxed his fingers open with a gentle touch, and then entwined them with his own.

Nicky felt like he was being torn to pieces, like the rage was making it impossible to focus on what was happening around him—and yet, nor could he put anything out of his mind. Joe had been making light of it all as well, and Nicky wasn’t sure that he _wanted_ to be holding Joe’s hand. The thought of ripping his hand away was tempting.

But… at the same time, Joe’s touch was the only thing _grounding_ him.

He wanted to shout and to scream, to let the tears he could feel prickling at his eyes run down his face without needing to hold them back.

But he couldn’t, he couldn’t, he _couldn’t_ when Joe was the one who had suffered in the first place. What was Nicky’s pain, when Joe was the one who had died?

Nicky bowed his head, tightened his grip, and dug the fingers of his other hand into his hair.

“Andy, stop the car.” Joe’s voice was firm and hard, leaving no room for argument. Nicky felt like he wanted to argue anyway, just because in that moment, _everything_ felt like a fight—

But despite everything Joe’s hand was still tight around his own, and Nicky tried to force down the rage. Had it taken any longer for the car to come to a stop on the side of the road, Nicky didn’t think that he would have been able to manage. The anger was bubbling up inside of him, threatening to boil over with the next tiny provocation. His thoughts felt like they were itching along the inside of his skull, every nonchalant, callous word spoken by one of the others cutting along his mind.

Joe’s door was open before the car was even at a full stop, and he pulled Nicky through it with him. Nicky followed with movements which felt erratic, as if his limbs weren’t quite under his control. Nile and Andy got out as well, but Nicky didn’t turn to look.

The moment they were away from the car and close to the trees that lined the road, Joe drew Nicky into his arms and held him close.

Nicky felt himself shaking, his fingers gripping the mess that was left of Joe’s shirt so tightly that he tore the material further. The stench of blood stuck in his nose, foul and metallic, and it only served to make him angrier.

“We’re okay,” Joe said—but just from the tone, Nicky knew he wasn’t speaking to him. “Go.”

There was a moment of silence, where indecision hung heavy in the air. Nicky pressed his face to Joe’s shoulder, squeezing his eyes tight. Holding on, for just a little longer.

“We’re not far from the safehouse,” Andy eventually said. “You guys remember the way?”

Joe gave the answer, but Nicky was trying not to listen, trying to block it all out. Still, he heard the sound of the engine starting, the turn of the tyres on the road—and once they were gone, he felt Joe’s hand stroke calmly down his back.

“We’re alone now, Nicolò,” Joe said, the soothing sounds of Italian washing over Nicky’s skin. “Talk to me.”

Despite everything pent up inside him, Nicky found that he didn’t know what to say. The rage still burned white hot, fury racing through his veins and tensing every line of muscle. Moments ago, he was ready to scream at the world, to wreak violence on everything that had ever moved. He’d wanted to rip and tear and _rage,_ but… now, now that it was just Joe—

“I was scared,” Nicky said, his voice cracking as he lifted his head to meet Joe’s gaze. “I don’t like seeing you like that.”

“I know,” Joe whispered. “I’m—”

“Please do not apologise,” Nicky interrupted. “Yusuf… please.”

Nicky felt Joe’s arms tighten slightly, almost as if he had flinched.

“I _had_ to jump in front of her,” Joe said. “She would have died.”

“I _know._ I’m not angry at you.”

“But you _are_ angry.” Joe leaned back slightly, and he lifted a hand to stroke Nicky’s cheek, the gentleness of his touch beaten only by the tenderness of his gaze. “I haven’t seen you this upset since…”

Nicky glanced away, feeling like the look in Joe’s eyes would be enough to break him. “I can’t lose you,” he said. “I _can’t.”_

“I can’t lose you either—”

“I know that, I—I know that you know how this feels,” Nicky said—and he finally found the strength to pull himself from Joe’s hold, his hands coming up to rake through his own hair as he turned to stare into the shadowed trees. “I _know_ that. But then they—and you, were joking around. It didn’t need to happen, Nile took the man out from our cover. _I_ could have taken him out even before then. But Andy raced forward. She’s the most experienced of us all, but she put you in danger, and I—I _can’t.”_

Nicky’s fist slammed into the bark of a tree before he even realised that he’d started to throw the punch. He grit his teeth against the pain, letting it ground him, focusing on _that_ instead of his anger.

“Experience worked against her today, I think,” Joe said softly. Nicky could hear him shifting, but Joe didn’t come any closer. “It was reckless, but had she been immortal still—”

“But she _isn’t,”_ Nicky snapped. “And yet, she still went in the same way as always, and in doing so she put _you_ —”

As he spoke, Nicky had finally turned to face Joe—and it was Joe’s expression which made him stop.

Joe’s face was still painted with blood from when he had been shot, his skin still stained with far too many smears of red. But under the mess his expression held enough sorrow to make Nicky’s heart ache, concern shining in his gaze and lining the crease of his brow.

“I’m all right, hayati,” Joe said. “I’m alive.”

“But you _weren’t,”_ Nicky said, his voice cracking. “You weren’t, and I— _I’m_ sorry.”

“Oh, Nicolò,” Joe said. “Come here.”

This time, when Joe moved forward to wrap Nicky in his arms, Nicky relaxed into his embrace with a soft cry. He let Joe cradle him close, let Joe’s touch chase away the rage that curled deep inside.

And by the time Joe started to speak, Nicky was finally feeling a little more coherent.

“You’re upset that I got hurt,” Joe whispered. “But you said you’re not angry at me. Talk to me, let me help.”

“You always help,” Nicky replied. “Always.”

“And are you angry that I had to help Andy? Are you angry at her?”

Nicky wanted to say no. Because he didn’t _like_ being angry at people, especially when he knew why she’d done it. But he also couldn’t think of the way that she’d put Joe in danger, caused Joe pain – and then _joked_ about it – without wanting to go and punch another tree. He knew she hadn’t done it on purpose. But she _had_ still done it.

“Yes,” he said, fingers clenching once again.

“Okay,” Joe replied. “And that’s okay. It’s all right to be angry.”

“You’re not,” Nicky muttered. “And you’re the one who…” He swallowed, not wanting to say it again. But he forced himself on, regardless. “You’re the one who who ended up dead.”

“Exactly,” Joe replied. “Trust me, if you had been the one to fall, I would have been at Andy’s throat.” Nicky felt Joe’s fingers trail along the back of his head, and he knew that Joe was remembering the last time Nicky had died. “You know I would have.”

“But you—”

“I’m fine. I’m alive, and I am still with you. I’m not going anywhere without you, ya amar. Do you remember… the day that Andy told us about Lykon?”

After living as long as Nicky had, it was impossible to remember every single day—but he knew _that_ one would stick in his mind forever. It had been a hard night for the both of them, realising that their belief of having unlimited time together was entirely misguided.

They had curled together away from Andy and Quynh, had held each other tightly without any thought of letting go. At the time, Nicky hadn’t wanted to think about it at all, had wanted to push every notion of an ending away. But Joe… he, as always, had managed to make it all better.

“You said that our fates are intertwined,” Nicky recalled. “That we will leave this life together.”

“We _will,”_ Joe swore. “I still believe that. Don’t you?”

Nicky held Joe a little tighter as he gave his answer. “I believe that without you, I wouldn’t be me anymore. I think I’ve proven tonight what even the thought of losing you can turn me into, and I think, if you were gone forever… dead or not, I, as I am, would no longer exist.”

Joe seemed to falter a little at that—and Nicky lifted his head to press a soft, reassuring kiss to Joe’s lips.

“I do believe you’re right,” Nicky continued. “We came into this together. We are destined to be together. We could not go through all of this only to be separated at the end.”

“Then we will always _be_ together,” Joe finished. “You and I. Forever.”

“You should have that written on a Hallmark card,” Nicky replied—and when he was rewarded by a short huff of laughter, he felt the last of his remaining horror melt away.

Joe moved forward first, pressing their lips together once again in a kiss that began sweet, but rapidly turned into something far deeper. And by the time their lips parted and their foreheads pressed together, both of their smiles were soft.

“How far is the safehouse?” Nicky asked, having been too distracted in the car to notice exactly how far they had come. 

“Less than a mile, I believe,” Joe replied. “It shouldn’t take us long to get there. And when we do, we are going to have a shower, and you are going to wash my hair for me. Then we’re going to bed, and we are not moving for a _week.”_

“I think I like the sound of that.” To be honest, he more than liked it—his muscles were aching something fierce, and the pounding in his head was growing worse. A bed and a night in Joe’s arms sounded entirely _delightful._

But as he went to move away, Joe held on a little tighter. Nicky wasn’t about to complain, and simply leaned back into him for a little longer.

“I love you, Nicolò,” Joe said, his voice soft, but no longer sad. “More than anyone could dream.”

“Not more than I,” Nicky replied. “I love you just as much.”

Just as much, and all the more every day. Nicky knew his love for Joe, their love for each other was stronger than anything.

He _knew_ that not even fate itself could tear them apart.

Sometimes, he just needed to be reminded.

**Author's Note:**

> They don’t stay in bed for a week. In the morning, they wake to find Andy acting strangely nice, and she offers them an actual heartfelt apology. Nile looks a little too smug for it to be a mere coincidence.  
>   
> Afterward, they all work together to make sure something like that doesn’t happen again, and Andy works harder than ever before to change her fighting style so that she doesn’t put herself, or anyone else, in any more risk than necessary.  
>   
> And Nicky and Joe? Well, they’re together, and they love each other. Really, that’s all they need.


End file.
